Standard Stuff
by urfriendlyneighborhoodpan
Summary: In which Tatsuki intervenes, so to speak. (ichihime) Complete.


**I do not own _Bleach_.**

* * *

"Here, take a slip from this jar and whichever one you get, I have to do it," he explained, stuffing his hands in his pockets once she had the jar. "Tatsuki wrote them all, so we both get a surprise this way."

Orihime shook the jar, watching the slips jump around inside. "What do you think they say?" she asks, reaching a hand in.

He shrugged. "Probably date ideas. Like going to the movies or having dinner together or something."

"A movie sounds good," she said, pulling a slip out. "I've been meaning to go see the dinosaur one."

"You're sure you don't want something more elaborate? I mean, I know you said no gifts but."

"Oh, no," she assured, unfolding the slip. "You spending your day with me is more than enough. My apartment's a mess today, but I'm glad—"

"Inoue?" When he saw her face pale and her eyes widen, panic raised within him. "What is it, what's wrong?"

The jar slipped from her hand, and he was only barely fast enough to catch it before it could shatter on her floor. When he straightened, her face had become so red he feared she'd faint.

"What does it say?" he asked, and took the slip from her frozen hand. "She should've told me before—"

She avoided his eyes. "I—I think she's playing a prank on us."

He cleared his throat, face aflame. "She made me swear I'd do anything the slip says."

* * *

.x.

* * *

The lock clicked and the situation finally settled. Heart pounding, she sat down at the end of her bed and tucked her hair behind her ears. He shrugged off his jacket and carefully folded it over the back of her desk chair. Neither of them moved for a few moments, staring at the ground and trying to muster up their nerves.

They lost them again when he finally turned to face her.

Her heart stopped for a second when he knelt down before her, made her blurt out, "I haven't shaved my legs."

"That's… That's fine," he said, hesitating before lightly touching his hand to her ankle. He blinked, realized she'd been giving him an out, and cleared his throat. "I'm gonna… May I kiss your knee?"

"Ah…okay," she mumbled, and jumped when he pushed her skirt up to do just that.

"Sorry," he said against her skin, before placing another kiss to the outer side. "May I kiss your thigh?"

"You don't… You don't have to ask," she said, looking away. "We both…agreed to this."

"Do you want this?" he asked, straightening so she'd look at him.

"I'm…" She fidgeted with her sleeves. "I'm curious."

He carefully folded her skirt up higher. "Me, too," he finally muttered, sitting back down and continuing up her leg. His hands moved ahead of his mouth, pushing and pushing her skirt until it was bunched at her hips. He paused a moment, and then switched his attention to her other leg, hand slowly stroking the last repeatedly.

She wrung her fingers, holding her breath every time he changed his methods. The contrasting roughness of his hands and the gentle way with which he touched her brought shivers up her spine, warmth spreading across her skin and leaving behind goosebumps. She stiffened when she felt him pull away, worried if perhaps she'd done something wrong.

"Your, uh…" he mumbled, face burning. He slid his hands back to her knees.

She caught his meaning, and was at once bombarded with insecurities she'd never had before. She'd never had to worry about how she looked like between her legs, always figured she could think about it after she started dating.

Perhaps that decision had slipped past her, because here and now her boyfriend sat between her legs with the full intention of seeing her. And here and now, he was moving his hands up her thighs to remove the only thing preventing that.

"I'll do it!" she all but shouted, and he retracted his hands immediately.

Oh, she didn't know if this was worse.

It might have been, had he decided to watch her. But he averted his gaze politely, pushing himself away so that she'd have the space she needed. She was grateful he didn't say a word when she had to awkwardly half stand from the bed to get them off, and even more so when he obviously noticed the silly kitten patterns on them.

"Um… I'm gonna…touch you now," he informed her now, but spent several minutes simply tracing patterns on her outer thighs with his eyes shut before actually doing anything. He leaned in to press a kiss against her hip, trailing one hand up and up until his fingers were hardly a hairsbreadth from the patch of curls between her thighs. He jolted when she hesitantly placed her hand atop his head.

"S—Sorry," she said, jerking her hand back.

He caught it, kissed her palm, and then placed it back where it'd been.

When his fingers finally touched her, she was embarrassed she was already wet. But he seemed pleased about this, mouth moving more fervently across her skin.

"Teach me how to touch you," he breathed, sliding his fingers down her slit.

To do that would be to reveal to him how often she really did, but when she took his hand and showed him where her nub was, he wasted no time mimicking the motions she'd moved his fingers in. The shock of pleasure that hit her was intense, surprising, and she clapped her hands over her mouth when she gasped too loudly.

"Does it feel good?" he asked, watching her face carefully. "Is there anything else I should do? I've…never done this before, so. You're gonna have to walk me through it."

"I—I haven't…either," she muttered, and then covered her face with her hands. "Your fingers…inside…"

"Right," he said, moving his fingers back down. "Could you please open your legs a little more? I mean…if you want, you don't have to."

She leaned back on her hands and did as he asked.

Squeezed her eyes shut when one of his fingers pushed inside of her. "It doesn't hurt, does it? If it does, I can stop."

"It doesn't hurt," she assured, trying to adjust. "Your fingers are just longer than—they're long."

He seemed to understand what she meant, but he ducked his head. "Let me know if you don't like anything."

By the time he added the second finger, she'd fallen down to her elbows, knees lifting. He moved slowly, painstakingly making sure she was comfortable throughout the process. His free hand caressed her thigh, rubbed circles into her hip, and his lips continued to move across her skin. When it finally joined his fingers, his fingers were almost completely coated in her. He paused a moment, cautiously touched his tongue to his finger, and then sucked them clean.

The noise it made caused another shiver down her spine.

"Sorry, was that weird?"

"N… No."

"Should I keep going?"

"Yes."

Before he did, he pulled back again to ask, "Do you want me to take my shirt off? I mean, you're kinda half naked, it's a little unfair to you."

"I… If you want," she mumbled, covering her face again. He tugged the shirt by the back of his collar and yanked it off, dropping it next to him, and returning his attention back to her.

He took a deep breath to settle his nerves again. "Are you doing okay?" he asked, shifting forward to settle her knees on his shoulders. His breath was hot on her.

"I—I… I'm fine," she whispered, leaning back again.

His fingers returned to her, but this time his mouth joined the equation. When his tongue slipped inside of her, heat flickered up toward the crown of her head and then down to the toes of her feet, like flames were licking at her skin. A noise left him and she twisted the sheets underneath her hands, finally lying on her back completely.

Her back arched and he pulled her by the hips further off the edge of the bed. Her mouth opened to breathe his name and he curled one finger inside of her. She hadn't the slightest how he knew to do that, but suddenly lights were flashing behind her eyelids and her toes were curling.

After her body had finally relaxed, she heard him swallow, felt him smooth his lips across her inner thigh and move her legs off his shoulders.

He was just as breathless as she, if not more.

"The slip didn't say anything about doing more, did it?" he asked, helping her into a more comfortable position.

She thought a moment. She'd only heard stories from girls at school, claiming things about the first time. She didn't think she was ready for that quite yet, and she felt guilty for this. Did he expect things from her? Was she being selfish for not returning the favor? Would he be angry with her?

But when she shook her head, he only smiled and asked, "Are you okay, then? Do you need anything?"

She was overcome with emotion. She'd heard of boys that pressured their girlfriends into things, stories of girls who'd felt worthless and unloved after the fact. And here he was, offering to take care of her, to comfort her after such a big moment. She felt different now, the same person as before but with wider eyes. There was no way she would be forgetting this.

She held out her arms and sniffled, "Hold me."

"Are you okay?" he asked in a panic, but did as she said. Moved around to the other side of the bed, climbed in beside her, and pulled her into his arms. She hugged him immediately, tucking her face into his chest. "Did I hurt you?"

"You were perfect," she said, voice muffled by his skin. "Absolutely perfect. I couldn't think of a better person to share this with."

* * *

.x.

* * *

"So what'd you get her?" Sado asked him the next day at lunch, and when he glanced toward her group of friends he found Tatsuki watching him with a terribly smug grin on her face.

"We just spent the day together at her apartment. Cuddled a little. You know," he said evasively, "pretty standard stuff."

* * *

.x.


End file.
